VIEWPOINTS: Alabama's immigration law has good and bad sides

'Justice Tempered by Mercy,' a bronze statue on the campus of Cumberland School of Law at Samford University, depicts the Angel of Mercy leaning down to make her case into the ear of an imperious and blindfolded Lady of Justice. (The Birmingham News/Jeff Roberts)

In the courtyard of the Cumberland School of Law at Samford University, there's a bronze statue called "Justice Tempered by Mercy." A regal Angel of Mercy leans down to make her case into the ear of an imperious and blindfolded Lady of Justice. Their presence is a fitting reminder to the fledgling lawyers that hurry past. The tension between mercy and justice will be an undercurrent of their careers, heightened even more in Alabama, and in Birmingham, where those words are weighted still by scars and triumph.

But those are old wounds and victories. For many of these young attorneys, their first swing of the sword of Justice will come in the form of Alabama's new immigration law, the Alabama Taxpayer and Citizen Protection Act, scheduled to go into effect Sept. 1.

Unlike the midcentury civil rights movement, where villains and heroes were easy to see, illegal immigration insists on a closer look at the Samford statue. Opponents of the Alabama legislation may, in the end, strengthen a law they despise and proponents could ultimately benefit the offenders they seek to punish.

When described in print, Alabama's immigration law is often "said to be" the toughest in the country. As if it's so ominous one risks turning into a pillar of salt by directly comparing it with the Arizona, Indiana, Utah or Georgia laws upon which it is based and surpasses in reach. Built on the popular opinion that the federal government has failed to contain the flow of aliens, it obligates law enforcement to detain anyone who appears to be in this country illegally. It carries stiff penalties for any person who assists, harbors or transports an illegal immigrant, including landlords. The law requires photo ID for any transaction with the state.

It directs companies to utilize the federal "E-Verify" system for all hires and levies severe punishment if an illegal is hired. And it requires that Alabama school systems verify the immigration status of students and their guardians.

According to bill co-sponsor and Alabama House of Representatives Majority Leader Micky Hammon, the intent of the law is "to discourage illegal aliens from coming to Alabama and to keep those already here from putting down roots." It's that simple. The bill is harsh because it aims to deter.

The fundamental premise is that illegal immigrants steal jobs from Alabamians, consume scarce public resources and foster crime. Each of these impacts is real; the extent is a matter of debate. The public mandate for immigration reform is, however, not a matter of debate.

Hammon and his Republican colleagues took control of the Alabama Legislature for the first time in 136 years. Immigration reform was a key campaign promise.

Local opposition to the law is organized and vigorous, much to the surprise of those who would dismiss Alabama as a moderate's lost cause. Civil liberties groups and Christian organizations, along with critics from academia, business and law enforcement, contend the law will penalize all citizens, criminalize acts of charity and, ultimately, fall under the weight of its public and private fiscal burden. In the end, they characterize it as a human rights violation and un-Christian. In a letter to Gov. Robert Bentley, Alabama Methodist ministers invoked Martin Luther King by pointing out that Christians have a "moral duty to obey just laws, and they also have a moral duty to disobey unjust ones." So much for the notion that red state religion is a partisan affair.

As in national politics, compromise is not an option. Mike Hubbard, the speaker of the Alabama House, said recently, "I make no apologies for what we passed. We did it for the right reasons. We have more bills like that coming." In the same week, an ACLU representative said, "Not only is Alabama's law blatantly unconstitutional, it flies in the face of American values by authorizing racial profiling, deterring children from going to school, and criminalizing those who lend a hand to individuals deemed by the state of Alabama to be 'illegal.'"

When asked what attribute he considered most valuable to a politician, Abraham Lincoln said, "To be able to raise a cause which shall produce an effect, and then fight the effect." In the case of Alabama immigration reform, the intractability of either side is having exactly that outcome.

Opponents of the Alabama legislation have joined forces to bring the law into federal court. Similar litigation in Arizona, Utah, Georgia and Indiana has resulted in blocks of some elements but, so far, no federal court has completely overturned a state immigration law.

Similarly, the U.S. Supreme Court has upheld parts of the Arizona law and blocked others. The more opponents push the laws into the courts, the more refined and established they become.

The economic benefit from the Alabama immigration law will continue to be argued. The relative improvement to civic order depends on which side of the tracks you live. The moral trade between human rights and palliative value to the Alabama psyche of putting "the other" in their place is best left to historians and coffee shop philosophers. Even though the law is presented as protection for Alabamians, the net result will improve the immigration process and, by deterring them from coming in the first place, protect illegal immigrants from the exploitation inherent in a desperate, cliff-hanging life. Few would argue the merits of one productive worker through the gate compared with the cost of a thousand undocumented workers over the fence.

I serve on the Board of Education for a small district in north Alabama. On Sept. 1, our teachers and administrators will be asked to audit the citizenship of their students and families. They will look into the faces of kids they see every day, students who want a life like the kid in the next desk with the good fortune to be born free and clear in a red-state sanctuary. Our staff must make a call.

Is this mercy tempered by justice? Or justice tempered by mercy? This school year, in the state of Alabama, the answer is, yes.

About the writer: Randy Sparkman is an information technology manager in Huntsville. He serves on the school board for Hartselle schools. Email:jubrising@gmail.com.